Once upon a time, three best friends journeyed to three separate foreign capitals in search of love. Now, the friends are getting ready to reunite for a wedding filled with surprises, sex, and seduction.
Matt Donovan and Anton Marcel have made the ultimate commitment to share their lives forever. Freddie Markson and Santo Mancusi have been growing apart ever since Santo’s movie career has taken off. Jake Westbury remains in search of love, going from one meaningless relationship to another. But a joyous event reunites the three friends at last, but not before a series of events threaten to undo their hard-fought happiness. With the aid of the Abbott siblings, all of whom have impacted the friends’ lives, the drama reaches its crescendo at a fabulous villa in the south of France.
From Paris to Los Angeles, New York to Tuscany, London to Nice, brimming with hot hunks and even hotter sex, the adventures of Matt, Freddie, and Jake climax in this fourth volume of the European Flings series. Will the wedding go off without a hitch, or will one last shocking truth jeopardize the future?
Matt felt the warm touch of his lover’s hand on his, a kiss on his cheek. Anton’s patchy beard scratched at his smooth cheek and sent a shiver of excitement through him. Playful, that’s what Matt decided upon, that’s what he was sensing, but not without a hint of nervousness. Was that sweat he felt on Anton’s palm? Still, he didn’t make any attempt to remove the blindfold and tried to keep his eyes closed. Trust among partners was paramount.
Anton’s response to their location came in rapid French, but it was directed not at Matt but at the cab driver. Matt’s French might have improved since he’d moved here, but it took a moment for him to understand that the driver was being told to pull up to the far corner. Anton was speaking fast deliberately, to throw him off.
“Oui, oui. Merci,” Anton finished with.
“Oh, sure, that’s easy to translate,” Matt added with a sardonic tone.
“Such impatience, Matt. That is unlike you.”
“It’s not every day one is blindfolded.”
“You like, we can try in bed one night?”
“Why don’t we see how this plays out first?”
Anton’s throaty laughter filled the confines of the cab, silenced suddenly by the sound of brakes being applied. The cab had come to a stop. Anton got out first, going around to the other side of the cab to assist Matt so he didn’t trip against the curb when exiting. Matt suddenly wondered what the driver thought about this situation; probably nothing, this was Paris and he’d probably seen it all in his profession. Still, Matt felt odd being guided along a busy sidewalk without his eyes.
“Are people staring at us?” Matt asked.
“Oui, and their looks are of jealousy.”
“That, I doubt.”
“You are too literal, Matt. Some days, when I sit down to paint, I use the blindfold. Eyes can be deceptive. They see what they wish to see. Only your mind can capture the full essence of the world around you.”
“The essence I smell is coffee. There’s a café near,” Matt said.
“This is Paris, Matt, there is a café on every corner. What you should smell is the forest from where the beans were grown, all of the lush green foliage that surrounds you. The sounds of nature.”
“Now who’s being the hopeless romantic,” Matt said.
It was an accusation he’d heard often about himself. Why else would he have chosen to go to the most romantic city in the world, Paris, in which to fall in love? He thought quickly of his two best friends, Jake and Freddie, each of whom had taken their own European adventure at the same time as he, but he knew both men were back home in the states. Jake, the man behind their idea of seeking love aboard, was still searching for that perfect connection, the last he knew. Freddie had achieved better success, and now devoted his life to following after his sexy Italian stud like a horny puppy. Just then Matt tripped on a curb, and Anton had to help him to his feet.
“Something on your mind?”
“Just thinking about my friends.”
“Ah, Jake and Freddie. You will contact them soon, of that I’m certain.”
“Okay, Anton, this is getting ridiculous. Where are we?”
“Just some steps, and then we are there.”
Matt found himself going up a staircase, feeling his way along the wall. It felt familiar, smelled familiar, too, but he just couldn’t come up with why. He felt Anton’s touch as the man guided him up, and then up further. It was like navigating in the dark, as though the power had gone out in the building and he had to guess at his next step. But he remained silent, sensing their destination was close at hand.
He heard a knock on a door, the creak of it opening.
Suddenly, Matt knew where he was and a smile broadened his cute face. He was about to speak when he felt a breath of air, a wafting scent of perfume.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“Never mind, darling,” he heard before feeling a peck on his cheek.
“Simone?”
What was his old friend doing here? Just what was going on? The mysteries of the night deepened, heightening a thrumming inside his heart. It’s not that he didn’t feel safe; both Anton and Simone were the people he trusted the most. He was just feeling…well, literally and figuratively, in the dark.
He received no reply, and soon the scent of Simone’s perfume was gone, as was the clack of her heels in the hallway.
The blindfold seemed to be blocking his thoughts now too.
“Anton, are you still here?”
“Always,” he said. “We are here, my love, where it all started for us.”
Matt was allowed to remove the blindfold, and when his eyes adjusted to the sight before him, what he found nearly took his breath away.
